The Ring
by AilciA
Summary: No, not that one. This is a friendship story expanding the argument Legolas and Aragorn had at Helm's Deep. Aragorn thinks about a precious ring that was given to him by his best friend. Not slash.
1. Rift

A/N: This is an Aragorn-Legolas friendship story. I have expanded a little on the argument between our two favourites in the film version of The Two Towers, you know the one... they're being dead sly when they're in a room full of Rohirrim and arguing in Elvish and then Aragorn explodes with: "Then I shall die as one of them!" Don't get me wrong, I love the way they make up in the film - actually, while I was writing this, I kind of forgot that they made up in the film at all! - but this is merely another way it could be done...  
  
There's also a little dash of Gimli for the sake of the Dwarvish world, and a nice backstory for Legolas and Aragorn. It explains how Aragorn got that ring he wears. Enjoy! And please remember to review - I need to know whether I'm doing the characters we love justice enough to continue!  
  
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It was another one of those infamously-wise little tid-bits that Legolas had always been brought up on as an elfling, and had - for as long as Aragorn could remember - always spouted in times of need, and that had consequently imprinted itself permenantly upon the back of the ranger's brain along with so many other phrases of the prince's. But this one idiom burned bright like the light of the a thousand torches in the ranger's mind at that particular moment, it was: 'Never let the Sun go down on an argument.'  
  
~Well~ thought Aragorn ruefully as he shifted upon the cold, unyielding stone of one one parapet of the walls encasing the strong-hold of Helm's Deep, watching his breath smoke in the cooling air ~The Sun *is* going down, and the argument still hasn't been settled~  
  
The infuriating elf simply couldn't see why Aragorn should be so willing to throw his life away 'so needlessly' for people he hardly knew - and that had lead to a large rift developing between the two, steadily culminating in the blurted statement of '*Then I shall die as one of them!*' exploding from Aragorn in the weapons-room, surrounded by those exact Rohirrim he was referring to.  
  
It was not that Legolas was not compassionate - indeed, he was a lot more sensitive to the needs of other races than many of his kind... his gentle, caring spirit was what had attatched him immediately to the human child, Estel, when first laying eyes upon him - no, it was merely that Legolas' loyalty and love of his best friend flatly refused to let the man die in such a redundant manner. Aragorn suspected that the prince could not bear to have the ranger's death... 'cheapened', somehow, by so many others - for all expected nothing short of a massacre that night. Many would die before the dawn finally came, they knew... and Legolas did not wish for Aragorn's death to be buried under so many others; he wanted *everyone* to honour it if the northerner's time came during this battle - But how could that happen? How could one man be put up on such a pedestal, and his passing be so greatly respected and thought of as courageous and without fear, when so many others had sacrificed themselves as well. Legolas knew it would not happen, and that, perhaps added to the fear of losing a close companion at all, was what the argument had really been about.  
  
It was not a selfish thought of the elf, it was a notion bourne of love for his best friend - one that Aragorn returned unquestionably, but sometimes, what one wanted could not be bestowed... and the ranger had seen that hurt reflected in the green, sparkling depths of the prince's eyes, just before a flaming anger had consumed them as Aragorn's harsh words registered. Then the eyes had dimmed completely after their spectacular flare, their oh-so- familiar light snubbed out and dulled at once, and he had turned from the ranger, his face a cold, stoic mask to emotion. It was one of the few times in their long friendship that Aragorn had been completely unable to read the elf's feelings - Legolas usually wore his large heart upon his green, embroidered sleeve, so when even his best friend did not know what he was feeling, things were bad.  
  
Aragorn sighed and shifted again in his gloom, unsure of what course of action he could take. He could not abandon these people to their fates, there must be *something* he could do. Gandalf had left them, and was expected to return by dawn - but what aid that would bring to them, Aragorn was unsure. All he and the Rohirrim could do was wait - for both the White Rider and the enemy... and he *would* wait.  
  
But also, the ranger was pained to see his best friend so unhappy with his decision, and wondered whether it was unfair and selfish of himself to keep two of his dearest friends here. Legolas, of course, would follow him to the ends of the earth and back, just as he would for him, and they all were members of the now-sundered fellowship, sworn to protect the Ring and to attempt to save the whole sorry mess Middle-earth had become under the imposing shadow, and that meant fighting battles. But Legolas', and indeed Gimli's, only tie to this place, this anticipated hell, was himself - could he live with their souls on his hands? Could he handle being solely responsible for the death of them both? It tore Aragorn apart that they might die merely because he would not leave... though they would die for the cause, the greater good, their loss would be unbearable to him. And Legolas was so miserable here, in this dark world of stone.  
  
The ranger cast his clear, grey eyes down to the level below his of the great fortress, searching for something familiar, and finally spied the golden head of his friend. Legolas was standing silently behind the wide ledge of the Helm's lower wall, leaning on it with his elbows, chin cupped in slender hands, looking wistfully out at the darkening plains beyond. An air of melancholy clung to him, and the glow he usually emanated, the light of the stars that all Elves - but most especially this one - carried, was dimmed. Though Gimli was quite happy to lodge here in the Glittering Caves temporarily whilst waiting for the battle to 'come to them' as he put it, the elf could find no rest where he could not taste the air, see the stars, and so was quite unhappy - though he did not show it to any who knew him not. But Aragorn knew him, and could see that Legolas was restless and uneasy, and the ranger imagined their arguement hadn't eased the prince's suffering any.  
  
'*I am of the world of Men and these are my people: I will die as one of them...*'  
  
He sighed again, but was then startled suddenly by a noise, and jolted so much he nearly fell, rather un-rangerly, from his perch as a deep voice rumbled from behind him, "It's only because the laddie cares that he acts as he does, Master Ranger." He turned were he sat and found Gimli stood with his hands on his stout hips, coal-black eyes searching his face for something. The dwarf continued, trying to help both friends out of the ridiculous mess they'd gotten themselves into, "You know he's just being his daft old self - he'll come around when the time is nigh."  
  
"I know that, Gimli," Aragorn said softly as he turned back, watching the Elven prince straighten and walk off, head downturned and golden hair falling forward over his shoulders. After a short silence: "But why can't he understand?!" The question was blurted for Aragorn could not hold it back, but Gimli did not look shocked, as Aragorn expected.  
  
He just smiled, and then roared with sudden laughter, strange to hear in the dark, ominous silence of the Helm, though the stone welcomed the sound of one of it's sons. "He is an elf!" he cried - to Gimli, that explained all. "He cannae understand anything that doesn't revolve around his own pretty head! *That's* why, lad!" He was jesting, of course, but Aragorn was reminded of those early weeks as a fellowship setting off from Rivendell, where the two creatures exchanged taunts and barbs on a daily basis.  
  
He smiled weakly, his mood lightening a little - as it usually did in the company of this particular dwarf - and looked out upon the fortress again, a smile still gracing his face. "Aye..."  
  
Gimli nodded curtly, knowing implicitly that he was right - he always was, after all - and said, "Well, if I don't get some rest, I'll drop my axe a second before those blasted orcs reach us, miss their necks and cut off their toes! So, I'll be off, but think on, Master Ranger - he just doesn't want to lose you... I'm saying, We all thought you'd left us before, but it seems you're like a bad penny: you always turn up... He'll stand by your side when it all comes down to it, though." The stout, toughened warrior, smiled - his work done - then turned and left in search of a worthy bed, leaving Aragorn alone with his thoughts.  
  
'*He'll stand by your side...*' The words echoed sofly in Aragorn's ears, almost as if someone was stood behind him, whispering them like the sighing wind.  
  
A memory of long ago came unbidden to his mind. He unconsciously glanced down to his left hand, and rubbed at the small ring on his forefinger. It was simple by design, but all the more beautiful for it's non-ostentatious presence. It was wrought of pure silver, but looked as though it had been made with the rays of the stars and moon, the shining lines weaving in and out of one another intricately, symbolising the lives of two certain beings. Within their meandering tendrils was set a small, oval stone of a greeny-blue hue, humbly resting it's nest of silver coils. Aragorn had carried this ring since he was nineteen summers old, and for nearly seventy years had cherished it as one of his most precious posessions, he had always worn it - even as a ranger, when one was supposed to be unidentifiable to all eyes, he wore this ring. For it was a ring of friendship and loyalty, and he smiled fondly at it as he remembered the time it had been given to him by his dearest friend.  
  
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Another chapter to come.... Review this one, though! 


	2. Remembering

A/N: Thankyou to everyone who reviewed my last chapter. Especially those who let me know about the *real* origins of Aragorn's ring - eiluj, I'm looking at you; thankyou for that wonderful summary of the story... I'm interested in it, now, and am going to read more!  
  
Now, I could be really smooth and suave about my whole huge mistake with this story and say something here like, "Oh, yeah... no I *meant* to write an alternative version of how Aragorn got his ring... yeah, no - *intentional*, like."  
  
But that would just be lying.  
  
So I am here to say that you all have my apologies for writing this in ignorance - but you are *not* to think of me any less of a Tolkien fan just because I haven't gotten round to reading the whole of the appendices yet. It was just a complete mistake that I am sorry for, and I will change my summary to let people know. I am as dedicated to Tolkien as all of you! It's just the ring kept catching my eye in scenes with Aragorn, and a story for how he got it came into my mind and I wrote this without really checking the back story to it, it should have occurred to me that the brilliant Peter Jackson has every single thing covered in his films... nevermind though, eh? Also, I didn't know that the ring was actually two serpents and a flower, so the description in this chapter is a little off - but I'm keeping it that way on principles! Alright, I wrote this whole story without really knowing anything about the real issues behind it - but I'm sticking to my guns now!  
  
In other words, I'm going to continue with this version because it's already all written down - plus, I like it!  
  
Anyway sorry again, but I hope this offering will placate all you 'purists', as Tinania Lindaleriel puts it... and I actually *do* think canonicity is a word - however, I may be wrong about that as well!  
  
Here you are....  
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~FLASHBACK~ (West wing of Mirkwood palace)  
  
Aragorn knocked lightly upon the oak door, but then entered straight away anyway without much more preamble. There was no need, after all.  
  
Sunlight poured into the bright, airy room through the large, open balconies, gauze curtains drifting lazily across the room - the Mirkwood forest always present both inside and outside of the above-ground wing of King's palace. The Sun drenched a figure lying on the large bed in her golden light, illuminating the young firstborn.  
  
~Well, pehaps *lying* on the bed is not the right way to put it~ thought Aragorn with a smirk, for the prince Legolas was technically only half on the bed. The rather eccentric young elf was reading in his usual way - upside down, with his head, torso and arms hanging off the side of the bed, and his bottom half anchored by some Elvish grace (or just pure, practised skill) on the top side.  
  
Aragorn, almost an adult man at the tender age of nineteen summers - all smooth-skinned, innocent and relatively unlined - shook his dark head in familiar bemusement to his best friend's antics and laughed, "You'll give yourself a headache if you keep on at that... why do you persist in reading in such an awkward manner?"  
  
Legolas' fair voice was distorted from the far side of the bed, a product of his stretched and flattened lungs and his position, and he had to angrily blow away some of his golden hair that had fallen down into his mouth before continuing properly, "It improves concentration and helps one imagine and believe the story better - it's the only way to read, Estel, I keep telling you."  
  
Aragron rolled his eyes as he flung himself upon the soft bed, and swung his long legs, boots and all, up onto it, "Yeah, I'll believe that when everyone's doing it... someone other that *you*..."  
  
A page turned nochalantly, completely without worry: "You wait, there'll be books written about this method someday..." The elf paused in his assurance for just a moment, thinking with the book forgotten momentarily, then continued "...which everyone will read whilst upside down... naturally."  
  
The man laughed aloud at his friend's foolish train of thought, and the Mirkwood prince, after putting his book to one side on the floor, sat up easily with a grin - the only indication he had spent the past hour upside down was a slight pinkening of the pale skin of his high cheekbones.  
  
"All packed?" Legolas asked casually with slender raised eyebrows.  
  
Aragorn sighed, his face turning more serious - realising how he would miss his friend when he left the Mirkwood realm again, "Aye, I leave in an hour's half..." He smiled slyly, "I am only a day or so late, so mayhap adar won't be *too* mad at you."  
  
"Me?" Legolas cried, with a small but rather weighty, punch to the ranger's arm. "I will assure Lord Elrond that all blame of tardiness shall fall directly upon your shoulders, as always, mellon nin." As if to prove his point, he then jabbed Aragorn visciously in the ribs with a long finger, grinning as the action provoked the man to jerk away with a small yelp. "You *know* he still believes me more than you anyhow," the prince smiled smugly.  
  
Aragorn grunted at that, but otherwise chose to ignore the comment, and continued on another subject, "I have said farewell to your father and brothers and sisters, and I am free to spend my last moments of freedom here, so... entertain me, elf." He grinned as Legolas grimaced and rolled his eyes, flinging himself back with a flourish to lie on his bed.  
  
"I would ride with you to Rivendell," said Legolas, turning a little wistfully suddenly as he spoke to the ceiling, "If not for the fact that adar wants me here to aid Niandias in something involving some of her more wayward pupils - I think my sister's organised a fete of some sort, a grand idea... obviously, I can't wait," he added sarcastically with a head tilt of assurance in Aragorn's direction.  
  
The young man sitting next to him, taking this comment the other way as to which it was intended - he had been, as ever, on the lookout for some slight against his young age - cried out with more than a small touch of indignance to his tone, "I do *not* need a baby-sitter, Legolas; why can't you realise I have nearly come of age! I don't see why you and adar, and Elladan and - "  
  
"Hey!" Legolas sat up quickly, holding his hands out palm upwards in front of him to try to placate his friend's fiery temper, and show he meant no harm, his green eyes wide, "I don't care how old you are, Estel - *I don't care*... I was merely saying how I wished to get out of Niandias' torture session this afternoon... *Why* do you persist in being so defensive all the time?"  
  
It was a good enough question; Aragorn always seemed to be on a quest to *prove* that he was old enough to do things without people watching out for him all the time. Even when he had been a independant young boy of nine, he insisted he was man enough to go out hunting with his brothers, and had always tried to show how well he could do things without supervision - this character trait was only being compounded as he grew older. He seemed to have developed quite a complex about it, actually. Perhaps it was because he had grown up as a human among Elves - with weaker abilities than the firstborn. Couple that with the fact that every member of his foster - and Legolas' second - family were all so much older than him, and all of them looked out for him without consideration, and you had a very annoyed, mature ranger on your hands.  
  
Aragorn only shrugged, but did not answer, his head slightly bowed in embarrassment, shaggy dark locks falling in front of his handsome face. Legolas decided he would take pity on him and drop the subject after a moment, and so smiled suddenly, a happy thought coming to his mind, "Hey, I just remembered that I have something for you."  
  
He reached out ungainly across his green-sheeted bed to the wooden cabinet beside, and pulled a small box wrapped in a dark green ribbon from one of the drawers. He handed it to Aragorn proudly, a huge grin spreading itself from pointed-ear-to-pointed-ear. "Open it!" he urged eagerly, fidgeting about where he sat like some small child at Yuletime, most unlike any prince of a Royal house should behave - but then again, when had Legolas ever behaved the way a prince was supposed to behave?  
  
The young ranger, after giving Legolas his patented wary look, unwrapped the bow curiously, and slowly lifted the lid off the small box. He almost gasped when he glimpsed what was there; for inside the box was the most elegant ring he had ever laid eyes upon. Legolas was giving this to him? Without any apparent reason? Emotion welled within him at the sight of the present, for he felt the affection with which it had been given, and his feelings crashed about his heart like the sea spraying off rocks. He had no idea what to say, and so he attempted to joke as he always did - hiding away his first reactions. He laid a jesting, roughened hand upon Legolas' own pale one lying idily upon the embroidered bedspread, and widened his grey eyes theatrically, "Ohh, and I love *you*, dearest, but I just don't think we're ready for that kind of commitment yet, do you?"  
  
Legolas pulled his hand away sharply, "Get off, you great jessie," he chuckled. Then continued a little sheepishly, "I just thought, you know, you don't come here all that often any more, and you humans seem to change so quickly that I can't hardly keep track of your face when I meet with you after a time, and we all know men do not have the best memories... so, you can remember me by this when you're off on your travels as a ranger." He shrugged with a happy grin, "I made it all on my lonesome, as well - Teltani the Blacksmith showed me the method how and then left me to it... I think he regrets it now, though; I may have broken his furnace..." he trailed off, thinking.  
  
"You made it?" Aragorn asked softly, as his eyes wandered over the beautiful treasure once again, exploring the winding paths and trails, then stared upon the elf's face in slight wonder. The fact that his best friend had wrought the gift himself made it all the more precious to him - it had come right from Legolas' heart.  
  
Greenleaf nodded gently, smiling at his best friend and the man's touching reaction. After a pause, he murmured, "It's also to remind you that I *don't* care how old you are..." Aragorn looked up at this, surprised, "...I'll still be looking out for you when you've had eighty-five year's worth of experience walking this earth, and then again at one-hundred and fifty - you can't think that when you come of age I'm just going to stop it and lay off you, that's just not the way best friends work, at least not in my book." Legolas grinned at Aragorn's half-rolled eyes, but knew that the young ranger understood by the way his grey eyes misted suddenly. "It's to remind you that no matter how tough things get, however bleak the future looks, the dawn is just behind those clouds - and I'll always be watching out for you, Estel - I'll know when you need me, and if you ever find yourself facing a storm, I will always, *always* be at your side, facing it with you... you'll never be alone, never walk alone. Got that?"  
  
Aragorn couldn't speak, his throat was too tight - a painful knot of emotion, but the silvery tears that rolled silently down his cheeks and into his stubbly beginnings of a beard as he nodded in understanding spoke volumes for him. And so Legolas wordlessly pulled him into a brotherly embrace, pondering absently how he would miss this man when he left him.  
  
A song began to escape his thin lips, capturing his whirling thoughts and weaving them skillfully into a beautiful tale that tried to make - and succeeded in making - Aragorn realise just how much he meant to the elf. The words he sang became a sort of anthem between the two friends, something they both would sing softly under their breath or in their minds whenever they found themselves in danger or in the darkest of times, whether alone or together. The song held as much meaning as the ring, for they were both bound together... just as the two friends were...  
  
"When you're down and troubled, and you need a helping hand. And nothing, oh nothing, is going right.  
Close your eyes and think of me, and soon I will be there, to brighten up even you darkest nights.  
  
"You just call out my name, and you know wherever I am am, I'll come running, to see you again.  
Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall, all you got to do is call, and I'll be there...  
  
"You've got a friend.  
  
"If the sky above you should turn dark and full of cloud, and that old North wind should begin to blow.  
Keep your head together, and call my name out loud, and soon, I'll be knocking upon your door.  
  
"You just call out my name, and you know wherever I am, I'll come running, to see you again.  
Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall, all you got to do is call, and I'll be there...  
  
"You've got a friend."  
  
The young ranger managed not to bawl like a little girl into Legolas' shoulder during the song, and even succeeded in swallowing the lump in his throat when the song was finished, but it did take him a moment before he could whisper with a small smile into his best friend's soft golden hair, "Thankyou, mellon nin, thankyou..."  
  
Legolas just chuckled and hugged him all the tighter.  
  
~END FLASHBACK~  
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The song is 'You've got a friend' by the seventies legend James Taylor... and no, it's not that one off Toy Story. This is superior in all ways.  
  
Another chapter to come... Review this one, though! 


	3. Reconcile

A/N: Wow. Thankyou to all who have reviewed, am exceedingly touched that you all like this so much - and special salutes to those who have read and reviewed my other stories after reading his one! Here's the ending, anyhow. Hope you like it!  
  
Alicia x x x  
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Aragorn smiled softly at the memory, the fond strands of the much-loved song still lingering in his mind, but at the same time a great sadness filled him suddenly - the Sun had set, the sky now blood-red in anticipation with the darkness drawing nigh, and Legolas was not by his side... he *was* alone. There would be no elf standing by him this time. He felt utterly wretched, and wished with all his heart there was some way to mend this rift between he and his best friend before they faced battle and almost-certain death. In his unhappiness, he again jolted violently when a soft voice came from behind him:  
  
"You are facing a storm, mellon nin, and I am at your side, facing it with you... I keep my promises." Aragorn turned quickly, the voice oh-so familiar, and there was Legolas, standing uneasily upon the stone before the ranger, both hands holding his Lothlorien bow in front of him, making him look very much like a repentant school-child. The elf himself had not changed through all their long years, he was still as fair and as beautiful as ever, except for a slight loss of innocence and gain of hard-learned wisdom in his bright green eyes. Nevertheless, the words he had spoken lovingly that day long ago were not forgotten by him either.  
  
Aragorn stood up, and walked slowly towards his estranged companion, who would not look at him and kept his large eyes studiously averted, fixed on the large stone flagstones beneath his feet. It was not until the ranger placed himself completely in front of the elf that Legolas finally glanced up at him warily through his dark eyelashes. There was a pause were nothing was said, and the two friends were just watching one another, until Aragorn muttered gently in confirmation with a nod of his dark head, "Aye, you always do."  
  
Legolas looked at him fully then, green eyes lit, and a stream of words seemed to burst suddenly from his soul: "I am *so* sorry, Estel, I did not mean to make you unhappy in any way. Of *course* I will stand by you and Gimli and defend these people, for as long as I possibly can." He smiled ruefully for a second, but it faded away with his tone of self-disgust, "I almost forgot that I am supposed to be looking out for you - I couldn't even look out for you when those Wargs attacked. Can you forgive me for my fear and hesitation? Even though they nearly made me break my promise?" His eyes fell away once more and focused on his green suede boots as he hung his golden head, expecting the answer to be negative, and Aragorn had to physically take hold of the elf's chin and lift it to drag the eyes back to meet his again.  
  
"You always keep your promises," he stated firmly again, grey eyes wide and full of conviction, and the words were spoken in utter earnest. Legolas never, ever willingly broke a promise, and always did all he could to keep his word. It was a matter of honour for him, one of the reasons Aragorn respected him so much. "I know your heart better than you do, mellon nin, and know it was not fear for yourself that made you hesitate... I know you, Legolas - do not think you can fool me."  
  
Legolas smiled faintly, and pulled his chin from Aragorn's rough hand, but still looked saddened by the way he had acted, percieving himself wrongly at that moment to be weak-minded and a coward. His pointed ears and high cheeks were tinted pale-pink in shame, an obvious characteristic he had when embarrassed, and though he would now look Aragorn in the eye, he tried not to. Instead, he looked out at the horizon, standing slightly but completely apart from his best friend - though it seemed to Aragorn that there were many leagues between them suddenly.  
  
The ranger was left at an utter loss as what to do - he was so willing to forgive his friend, already had done in fact... there had been no qualms in his mind about that, but the question now was: would Legolas accept his forgiveness? The elf obviously didn't feel worthy of such a grace given to him by the wronged man, and Aragorn knew that the elf's heart was still troubled, one only had to look at his face. An awkward moment passed uneasily between the two warriors as they both looked out at the plains before the Deep, one of few uneasy silences that had ever occurred during their lengthy friendship.  
  
Then Aragorn suddenly lighted upon an idea that was, in his opinion, possibly one of the best he had ever had. He hesitated, embarrassed slightly for the Rohirrim who milled all about them would hear, but then, eyes still gazing upon the landscape, he collected his courage and began to sing softly under his breath. A song of a friendship that would not be broken by any storm nor be held back by any crowd of strangers.  
  
As soon as he heard the beginnings of the song, Legolas' golden head whipped round so he was facing his best friend, and a smile began to creep across his face, green eyes glinted gently with fondness. He simply stood there in silence for a time, listening with his head tipped to one side slightly as Aragorn finished the song, his deep voice nearly as fair as an elf's, for all the pratice it got. When it ended, Legolas spoke up quietly, his smile still lingering, "I thought you men were supposed to have memories like sieves."  
  
Aragorn chuckled, eyes still on the elf's pale face, "Aye, in certain things... but not in others." And he held up his left hand, showing Legolas the long-cherished ring on his forfinger. Understanding flashed immediately through the prince's eyes, and after a long moment he finally nodded with acceptance, then laughed merrily - and that was what truly let Aragorn know that his best friend had forgiven himself. The ranger suddenly felt all was right in the world - it did not matter if battle was coming for them, for someone special stood now at his side.  
  
"What a fine pair we make, you and I! Both as daft as each other!" the elf grinned in his old way as Aragorn placed a hand on his slender shoulder and gripped it brotherly, gladdened beyond words by the turn of personal events.  
  
"I'll second that," came a gruff, weary voice from somewhere beneath them, and they both looked down to see Gimli frowning good-naturedly at them. "Finally! I thought you dozy lads would never make it up... glad to know this battle's in safe hands, eh?"  
  
The two best friends laughed, the sound making those strangers around them smile despite their worries.  
  
Suddenly, the clear, triumphant note of a horn rang out through the valley. Aragorn and Legolas looked at each other, and Legolas' green eyes were wide and bright all of a sudden, knowing implicitly the call of his people. "That is no orc-horn," he stated, excitement prickling his tone unconsciously. All three warriors ran to the wall with those Rohirrim about them at the time to get a better look - and there, merely bright dots on the horizon, they witnessed the coming of a huge army of fair elves that were marching steadily towards the battlement, making their way to the desperate battlement of their long-seperated allies, lending their support to the race of Men in this dark hour of need - volunteering freely to stand by their friends. Legolas looked to his best friend, eyes alight, and they shared a smile.  
  
This brave act was not forgotten in the histories of the world... nor were any acts of courage determined by friendship during that time, for far away, in Mordor, two small hobbits struggled ever onwards.  
  
THE END  
  
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Like this story? Did you hate it? Let me know and lend your support or shoot me down! Either way... review! 


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